Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust
by creamyjoshy
Summary: Six soldiers - A commando, a marine, a pilot, a spy, a sniper and a mutant, must battle their way through Istanbul - uncovering a deadly plot.


**Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust**

_**Author's Notes**_**: **_My profile will tell you I'm a new member, but I've been writing for a while now. I'm not sure how many read the C&C section any more, but drop a review and tell me what you think. I'll be honest; I like the potential for this story. I have a huge amount of ideas, and I'm gonna try and keep it from being 'just a big battle', rather linking it into the whole C&C plot itself. I'm gonna be telling the same story from about six different perspectives, which you'll discover in later chapters, and I'll be doing my best to tie these people together._

_Enough from me, let's begin =] _

**Chapter 1 – A New Dawn**

Parker checked his wrist. 1157 hours. Nearly midnight

"Talon Team Sierra..." A voice spoke softly through a radio. "Talon Team Sierra, report, over."

Lieutenant Joseph Parker slowly bought his hand to the side of his head to click the button controlling his built-in radio. "Maintain radio silence, out." He breathed, irritated, but almost inaudibly against the thunderous lashing rains whipping violently over the city of Istanbul. Like most of the world, Tiberium had affected local climate, bringing with it almost schizophrenic weather patterns. Turkey was a dry, spotless climate; at least it was 40 years ago. Now, ion storms ravish what is left of the barren city. The population is virtually nil, not accounting for mutants in the West, and the Nod military presence throughout the city. Like in most yellow zones, however, a scattered, hopeless population of mostly scavenger folk lurked the cities. Thunder snapped close by, illuminating the entire horizon, followed by a sudden ambush of wind.

He, and his team, lay as still as dead men in the dinghy, as it glided over to the dock. The heavy rain somehow soothed him. Parker had his headgear open for the time being, exposing his face. Effortlessly, he could snap armour over his face, and two tiny cameras would become his eyes in a heads-up display projected onto the interior of the headgear. These cameras could switch between infra-red, night vision, and a full 180 degrees of regular sight. They often proved useful with scouting jobs, too, their 25x zoom had already helped them once today. Snapping the head shut would seal him hermetically from the outside, the air would be filtered to protect from any kind of harmful agent: Tiberium, nerve gas, even something biological could be detected.

The heads-up display could also provide essential tactical information, once the headgear was closed. Not only did his suit provide protection, but it was also tapped into everything he'd need. Ammunition count, medical information, such as heart rate, not only of him, but of his entire 6-man unit. A small diagram of his suit even showed where he took damage, highlighting it red. Tactical information from higher up could be given to him: real time satellite feeds, he could tap into the cameras of his team, he could even access the central EVA network for information.

None of this he needed right now. Parker felt that it was over-hyped. Istanbul was a yellow zone, little threat from Tiberium in the city. The satellite link also relied in an over-head satellite, which wasn't available right now. It was also unlikely they'd use much ammunition, or be wounded in such a covert operation.

But GDI had to look good if they were saving the world, right? Parker could see through the political motives. Much of the warfare was based on propaganda, on both sides. GDI wanted to appear to have the upper hand to try to stop the flow of recruits to Nod. How? Wear something flashy, techy. Something better than the rag-tag armour Nod militants were given. So far, nothing seemed to have changed, except GDI special forces physical standards slip, as special forces modern armours, including Parker's, had a built in exoskeleton to carry weight.

He felt the rubber bounce off from the boat, as it made contact with the worn wooden jetty. Swiftly, like some ghostly presence, Parker took point, as he slithered off the boat and scanned around through the digital sights of his KRAFKA M2 Sopmod 8mm SMG. To his left was a man in an unfastened uniform at the end of the jetty. His helmet and rifle lay on the ground next to him, as the warm glow of a cigarette illuminated his face, creating a silhouette of his head as he looked out onto the waterfront. Presumably, he was off-duty. It mattered little. Parker signalled one of his five men to him, who holstered his rifle on his magnetic clamp (on his back) to take care of him. In the distance rumbled a Nod column rolling across the Bosphorus Bridge into Europe. Scorpion tanks, flame tanks, buggies, trucks carrying infantry, or supplies. Fuel trucks, as well as logistics trucks, such as MSA's. Even a few ancient tick tanks, and other old Second Tiberian War equipment. Parker knew this was probably the first batch in a long line.

'_Nod must be getting desperate'_, he considered.

Another jolt of lighting seemed to ripple down his spine, focussing him. Parker could also make out another special forces team on the opposite side of the river, more downstream, grappling up a large concrete navy vessel dock. To his right were a set of concrete stairs with a rusted hand rail, leading up to a concrete overwatch with two more men, talking obnoxiously loud, standing in front of a wooden tower with a man and spotlight in it, thankfully, facing away from the coast and watching over the road running past it. As one roared with laughter, the man at the end of the pier met his demise, the laughter masking what little whimper he gave. Rear approach, check shoulder to prevent turning, hands to chin and base of skull, neck-snap. Textbook kill. His body limped into the water, hardly making a mutter. His killer rejoined the squad. Parker signalled to the man next to him, who was rigid on holding a 360 degree perimeter, to join him in taking the shot. Parker had the man on the left. Thin mousy hairline, patch of facial hair under the lip, quite young for a soldier, barely looked 17.

'_No!'_Parker thought. He was trained not to profile his targets.

He took a breath, tapping the man on his right on his shoulder. It was safe to assume they wouldn't hear him. He extended his SMG's stock. Parker spoke in a hushed tone "You take right, I'll take left. Count of three." Parker counted down softly, watching the boy in his final seconds of his existence, his red dot sight dancing away over his temple.

"...1" he finalized, firing two rounds in quick order. The noise of the bullets could barely be heard, like the whisk of a blade in a thunderstorm. A double tap straight into the side of his head. Instant death. Both men collapsed without resistance.

Parker signalled the team to the base of the stairs. They formed a line, and noiselessly drifted down the jetty to the concrete embankment. Parker joined them, crouching, and reaching for his radio.

"Vulture Team Foxtrot, this is Talon Team Sierra, send, over."

"This is Vulture Team Foxtrot. Lost sight of you. Have you made landfall? Over."

"Affirmative. Moving up the embankment now. Sighted one man in a spotlight tower, but we cannot get a shot. How copy? Over."

"Solid copy, Talon Sierra. We'll see what we can do. Out."

A few seconds later, as if from a cosmic force came the whistling sound of a bullet from afar, as the man in the tower collapsed. Several sniper teams had been smuggled into Istanbul a few days earlier, and told to find a good overwatch. Parker guessed that they were probably in one of the massive shipping cranes which loomed over the industrial district not far from their position.

Parker snuck up the stairs, disposing of the two men by rolling them into the water. He produced a small periscope from one of his tactical pouches, extended it, and spied over the concrete horizon. To his right, a small concrete bunker about 100 metres down, watching over a road leading up past Parker, and further down the waterfront. He could spot a barbed chainlink fence just before the bunker, curving off to the left, cutting off a block of warehouses. A perimeter had been made around this small industrial area. Dead ahead of him was one of the many warehouses inhabiting this area. It looked too civilian to be Nod, although the area was bristling with Nod presence. A few soldiers patrolled a rooftop walkway above the building, similar to many of the warehouses. Parker turned his attention right: a shipping area on the coast. Many massive cranes on rails, colossal cargo containers, concrete docks big enough to sit a small aircraft carrier in.

Parker took a few minutes to think before snapping away his periscope. Causiously crawling, he made his way back down the flight of stairs back to his team. Snapping his helmet shut, he could talk to his team without raising much noise. A live camera of their faces in the helmets, tucked away to the side of his vision, represented each squad member. Parker took a breath.

"Alright." He began. "Here's what we have to do..."

_Chapter 1 notes: I wanted to use this section just to set the plot in direction and introduce our first character. There isn't a lot of action, for now. We'll see some action very shortly ;) _


End file.
